Monarch in the Dark Book 1: The Degradation of the Masses
by Atma-Stand
Summary: Ancient sins may be forgotten by time, but the dead are not silent. A ring will shatter and a tragedy that has persisted since time immemorial will come to an end. This is my first fanfic and I'm not the greatest at summaries so bear with me. I hope you all enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Hello and welcome to all that arrived to this story. I do not own any of the rights to the franchise of Dark Souls and Bloodborne nor do I own anything else that Miyazaki has worked on. If I did I would be rolling in money. That being said, this is a fan made work that has no intention of garnering money as well as my first work, so please use constructive criticism and no flames, I see enough of those on the site already. The flames will be ignored and criticism that comes from jolly and cooperative travelers will be praised. Thank you all very much and here is the first chapter of my first work, "Monarch in the Dark" (Title Pending for revision)

Chapter 1: Hunting a Forgotten Sinner.

In the myriad of cultures that comprise what could be considered all of humanity, a cycle is born that is unconsciously followed. What was once history transcends into the realm of legends. Legends become myths before eventually being forgotten. Yet, there are those who remember and maintain these myths to be true. And so our eyes are cast to what was once a great country walled off from the world and memory, Drangleic.

The crypts were unsettling to Pardoner Thomas. The man had faced his fair share of battles and hunts before. From the streets of decrepit cities to the castles of the corrupt nobles, but this was different. He and some his fellow pardoners had been called upon by their superiors to handle a matter of grave importance. A sinner of great infamy had been found and had to be brought to justice. Pardoner Thomas had been told that this sinner was given the duty to end the curse of the undead, but instead choose to reject this sacred duty in the pursuit of power for their own gain. The pardoners assembled found this to be both understandable and pitiable. An undead seeking to stave off the curse was not uncommon.

Many who suffered the curse of un-death would rather take power to preserve themselves then become hollow, and yet the nature of this hunt troubled Pardoner Thomas. The area to which they had been dispatched had been forgotten for generations. This meant that the sinner must have surely gone hollow years ago. Still, Pardoner Thomas thought to himself, if it would mean an easy battle, then he could find some trinkets and other lost treasures to parade as spoils of victory, then he found little issue in the assignment. The party had been formed of ten pardoners, each bearing the sacred vestments and weapons of their faith, all of which were blessed by their tireless goddess. They had been led by Pardoner Oscar, a man who had borne witness to and righted many sins within his lifetime. He was a devoted Pardoner, if not fanatical in his beliefs.

The journey had gone well enough in the beginning. Barely able to even stand let alone attack, the hollows that were found along the path leading to Drangleic Castle were too bogged down by the weight of their own distended and bloated stomachs and were easily dispatched. A swing of their swords here and there ended their pathetic existences. It was only when the party entered into the castle proper did the troubles begin. Horrific crossbreeds of man and elephant and the possessed armors were found to be avoided at all costs. They had already lost two of their own to these guards that hid themselves in the guise of petrification. It was at this point that Pardoner Thomas began to feel an unwelcome sense of dread.

The castle was a testament to the greatness that man could accomplish if given the time and was perhaps a bastion against the evils of the world. However, the discovery that the dark had found a home here left him reeling. They lost another man to a painting before the throne room. It had appeared to be worn by the elements but when he tried to closely inspect the obscured figure within, a black smoke burst forth from it and consumed him. They heard him scream but dared not approach. As they watched Pardoner Jacob, as Thomas recalled his name, begin to rapidly age. No that wasn't right. Aging to death would have been a mercy. No Jacob began to rot while he breathed. It took seconds, but watching the process made them feel like eons had passed. No one spoke after that and a silent pilgrimage was made further into the corrupted castle, dealing with what remained of the hollowed guards as they went.

The Pardoners passed through an area which could have been described as a watery oasis below the castle. There they encountered robed undead, so hollowed that they attacked themselves in their throes of combat. Skeletons of twisted mockeries of men dotted the path further on. Just past a cave in which they rested for a time, they discovered the entrance to a great crypt.

"This has to be it!" declared Pardoner Oscar. "The Royal Crypt of Drangleic. It has been said that the dead choose to find rest in this wretched place. How fitting for a sinner to mark this place as their home", he sneered.

The other pardoners gave their own short affirmations to this. "Even if I was such a sinner, I do not think I would willing hide myself within this place", thought Pardoner Thomas. Thomas began to realize that the sense of dread that he felt earlier in the castle returned in greater force. He began to search the shadows for phantom nightmares to emerge and attack. Fortunately no such attack came and the corpses that lay within the crypt were merely skeletons wrapped in the moth eaten remains of what could pass as clothing in another age. However, the dilapidated state of the crypt made the travel just perilous. Water and roots from the underground oasis above had begun leaking and creeping their way into the crypts years ago. Much of the surrounding stone work that made up the ceiling was falling part. Most evident of this was a small bridge that connected the two halves of the crypt. Part of the ceiling had fallen away destroying it and in its place a small waterfall cascaded down to the depths below.

The party of pardoners had then resolved to find another path through the crypt to reach their destination. Thankfully such a path did indeed exist. Just to the right of the destroyed bridge they discovered a large room containing a multitude of graves. The left side of room was a dead end. There was a smaller room off to the side. The only thing of note within this small room was a twisted sword sitting in a mound of fine ash. So the pardoners turned their eyes to the right and discovered a doorway that led to a smaller room. The room they entered contained a short staircase to another door. When they passed through this door, they found themselves on a new path.

Through this path, the pardoners discovered two hollow suits of giant armor with two pairs of gigantic shields clutched in the gauntlets. Another of the pardoners, Laurence, surmised that the shields may have been used in tandem as methods of attack rather than defense. Whatever the case may have been, the empty suits of armor and their shields were soon forgotten as the men discovered a hole at the end of the hallway. The pardoners carefully looked through the hole and into the room below. Seeing as there were no enemies in sight and realizing that they could use the various tomb stones in order to ascend back up the hole, they leapt into it and continued on their journey.

It was at this point that Pardoner Thomas began to notice that something was amiss with his fellow pardoners. Pardoner Oscar looked almost possessed by an unseen will, charging ahead of the group with his sword drawn. Pardoner Laurence began to look at the others with an unwelcome sense of curiosity as though he was a predator looking at his prey. The others seemed to share Thomas's sense of ever encroaching dread, looking at each other and their surroundings as though one or the other was going to suddenly attack. At least half of the party could not resist looking behind them even though they knew they were the only things alive within the crypts. Finally after much tension, they entered into a long hall with ornate mausoleums on the sides. They next passed through a room with broken pillars lying everywhere and an unnatural light emanating from the ceiling. Lastly, they approached a staircase leading down into a darkened room.

Sound?…. Voices?…. Footsteps?…. Approaching?

…..

…

….

That which was held in the coffin below waited and to its delight there was something drawing near. "People", it thought to itself, "Yes there are people coming nearer."

The presence within the coffin expanded its senses outward and felt the souls of those that were approaching. The first one that was approaching was filled with a devotion to something. A single minded devotion that held a sense of blind loyalty. The second closest, held thoughts of glory and selfishness, a plan was being hatched by that one, the presence thought to itself. A third felt of dread, trepidation, and a flickering of courage. The others were simply frightened.

"Like scared little rabbits." The presence thought amusingly. It felt the group stop before its resting place. "What do they wish to accomplish here? If they desire power, then they have wasted their time", it thought to itself.

Any other question it might have had was quickly forgotten when the unknown humans began to open its coffin.

There was no words spoken in the silence as the pardoners descended into the dark room. They surrounded the coffin and it took all of their strength to open it. Inside lay a corpse not unlike the others they had passed along the way, but this one held a sinister air about it that was all its own.

"This is the sinner!" cried Pardoner Oscar triumphantly.

"This corpse?! You mean to tell me that we have traveled so long to stab a dead body?!" Pardoner Laurence grounded out.

"It appears to be so, let's just destroy the body and leave. I do not wish to be here any longer" growled pardoner Thomas. The smell was the first thing Pardoner Thomas noticed about the body. He had been taught the various smells that were attributed to his job. Rot and ash were the most prominent smells emanating from the ancient body. And yet he swore that in the dim light of their torches, he could see the hand twitch as if in anticipation. "No" the pardoner thought to himself. "That twitching must be my imagination. The darkness is getting to me. I must leave this place as quickly as possible."

The pardoners looked at each other before stabbing the ancient corpse with their blades. Nothing happened. The body did not rise up and attack nor did any amount of souls be released. That's when they noted that something had gone wrong. There were seven of them, but only six swords pierced the sinner.

Pardoner Thomas looked down at his hand and screamed. The hand of the body was wrapped around his own crushing it with a vice like grip. He took out his dagger and slashed at the offending limb before it released him. As he fell back, he saw his sword in its hand and knew what would happen next. The hand flashed the blade in a quick arc aimed at Pardoner Oscar. The man stilled before he crumpled to the floor.

"Pardoner Oscar! He's dead!" screamed someone in their party.

A mist flew from Oscar's body and into coffin. The body rose up and exited the coffin shortly after and flew into a broken flurry of blade and fists. The other pardoners were all cut down before Thomas's eyes one by one. Pardoner Laurence attempted to stab the hollow in the back but his blade was bat aside before he met his own demise.

Silence filled the crypt and Thomas tried to make himself as small as possible before something stilled his heart. A voice that asked a simple question.

"Why did you think you could kill one who has joined with death?"

He looked up and saw the ancient corpse staring down at him.

END


	2. Ascent from Darkness

I claim no ownership over Demon's Souls, Dark Souls, Dark Souls 2, Bloodborne, and other affiliated works. Thank you very much and enjoy.

Chapter 2: To ascend into light.

"Why did you think you could kill one that has transcended the curse?"

It was a simple question that caused Pardoner Thomas's heart to seize up in fear. This creature had just slaughtered his company and now… and now he realized it was not a mindless undead. This wretch had maintained its sense of self throughout the years. How powerful must it…

"I asked you a question, and I expect an answer."

The voice came again, clearer than before, more human. Pardoner Thomas gazed up at his target and felt blind terror renew itself within him once more. Wisps began to flow from the bodies of the slain pardoners and enter into the ancient undead. Each wisp caused gouts of flame and ash to flow from the wounds it received in the prior battle. When the flows stopped the wounds were gone, as if they never existed. However, that was not what truly caught the attention of the Pardoner, it was instead the fact that the corpse was being restored to life. Each time a wisp made contact with the corpse a change occurred. First the skin seemed to tighten around its frame. Then the body began regenerate; hair grew back, eyes regained their light and a myriad of other changes led Pardoner Thomas to realize one thing, his actions and those of fellow pardoners led to this unholy rebirth.

When to process was finished Pardoner Thomas saw the undead as it truly was. It was a woman standing at height much taller than the average man. She had dark skin that bore scars from countless battles, and crimson eyes that seemed to devour what little light was present in the crypt.

"We were given a mission, a holy mission to destroy wretched ilk like yourself!" Pardoner Thomas spat.

"Really, and what makes me so wretched in your eyes mortal? It is not like I have laid waste to any great civilizations, or slew the greatest of holy figures? The Undead responded.

"You ignored your sacred duty, the duty of all undead. You were supposed to link the…"

"The flame and end the curse of un-death yes I know, your compatriots told me more than enough." She interrupted. "The reason why I am asking you is that I would like to hear from a living voice rather than another soul. You'd be surprised about what you can learn from a simple conversation."

"How… did…what are you talking about?" The Pardoner asked shocked.

"Those wisps that you no doubt saw, those were their souls and now they are a part of me. Their knowledge, strengths, and skills are mine to use as I see fit, and believe me when I tell you, all of you had very similar answer. Some may have been more zealous than you but the answer was the same. Kill a sinner, come back to wherever you all hail from and receive a new assignment. It is a touch pathetic really."

"Hold your tongue you monster, you…you ate them, you ate their very beings! If you speak about that so easily then our mission was justified!" Pardoner Thomas screamed back.

"You poor pathetic fool, you had no idea what this mission entailed did you. You merely assumed that this would be a simple kill didn't you? Well let me give you my interpretation of what would have happened. If the world were kinder to you and your men, then I would be as hollow as you expected me to be. You would have killed me and my power would have gone to all of you. The return trip would have been easy at first, all that power and the feeling of victory would have made you all believe you were invincible. Then over time, your party would begin to eye each other hungrily. You would want the share of power that every other member had and you would kill each other until there was only one survivor. That survivor would then return to his masters and report success."

"From there, two things could possibly happen. On the one hand, the survivor could be killed by his superiors and the cycle renews itself until only one remains. On the other hand, the survivor would be given some inane title of power and be used as hound for his masters until he was so weakened that disposing of him would be a simple job. Either way, the battle over the souls I possess would continue until people forgot what was being fought for." She paused in her speech for a moment and stated, "Just like the Curse of Want actually."

"I digress though, since you have seen fit to enter into my kingdom un-announced, I believe it would only be fitting to escort you out of my kingdom."

"Come no further! My life is not yours to take!" The Pardoner shouted, terror bleeding into words.

"Well if you look at it that way, then as queen I can only offer you two choices. You can pick up any number of these swords" she pointed at the thin blades that were scattered haphazardly across the floor of the crypt "and try to avenge your fallen friends or" she pointed at the ascending staircase behind him "walk up those steps and take your chances with the denizens of my kingdom."

It took Pardoner Thomas a few seconds to decide what he wanted to do. He turned, cradled his ruined hand, and began to run up the steps. He was half way up when pain exploded in his chest. One of the rapiers his party carried had run him through and the wielder, the queen.

"Forgive me, I can be rather forgetful at times" she chuckled. "If I do remember correctly most kingdoms punish those who assault royalty with death, and as I Rohanna, Queen of Drangleic am royalty" her voice adopted a darker tone, "your punishment is the sword."

The sword was wrenched out of Pardoner Thomas's chest. The last thing that he saw before darkness took him was the undead queen reaching into her coffin as if to grasp something.

Those souls, each had been plagued by an unfathomable amount of zeal. Dispatching them had been relatively easy. However, more would surely come and there were some secrets Drangleic held that should not be un-earthed. These were the thoughts that were running through Rohanna's head as she began to retrieve her belongings from her coffin. All of the items that she had acquired in her journeys were placed within an old chest. On the surface, this chest did not appear to be special. However, it was enchanted with old magic and could seemingly hold an infinite amount of items. As she was retrieving the chest, Rohanna began to take stock of her appearance. Her armor has seen far better days in the pasts and served her little purpose. She looked around the chest and decided to take the robes of the late chancellor. As she donned the dark robes, she began to hear the noise of a fire in the antechamber above her crypt. Only one being in all of Drangleic would announce itself in such a fashion.

As she ascended up the staircase she was greeted by an old acquaintance.

"Aldia, to what do I owe the pleasure of your audience?" She sneered.

"Did I arrive too late? It has been quite some time since we have received living guests in these halls. How… curious, my queen may I have the opportunity to examine them at length?

"I really am not that concerned as to what you do with the bodies. What I am more concerned about are the whereabouts of Agdayne and his wardens. Surely they would have prevented these assassins from getting this far." Replied Rohanna.

It took the monstrous form of Aldia several moments before responding. "Ah yes, the fenito, from last I heard, they set off some time ago to silence some twisted song." He chuckled.

"Another demon of song was birthed? Alright, I'll leave the crypt and castle proper in Agdayne's care until I return."

"You seek to discover the whereabouts of their masters? I thought their souls would have told you enough? Aldia asked.

"Despite what you may overheard with that last fanatic, the knowledge gained was not instantaneous. It will take some time before all of it is available to me and for what little I have gleaned from their souls it would seem as though there were several middle men between our esteemed guests and their leaders. What I have discovered is that they arrived on rather nice ship that is conveniently docked on an outcropping off the cliffs of Majula. Sometimes nature can be so accommodating."

"This seems to be the point in which we part ways. We may yet meet again, Old hollow". With this said, Aldia's form vanished in a burst of fire and ash leaving the undead queen alone in the crypt.

"Yes we may, damned abomination." Rohanna muttered to herself as she began to leave from Drangleic's undead crypt.

Side Story 1: What is in a name?

The light from the fire flies was enchanting. Each one seemed to bathe the ruined structure in a soft caressing light.

The one who had stirred them gazed longing at the multitude of insects before something drew its attention. There was a lake not too far from it. So close and yet…

The lake changed and became something different. A churning mass that called out for anything to enter it. The figure stood before the small maelstrom and hesitated.

"The fireflies" It thought. "they burn so intensely but, the water…

The figure took an unsure step and fell in the dark waters. Before the light vanished, it saw a man and a woman holding a child.

The figure awoke to coldness. They weren't wet. They should have been wet but the idea of caring for their current state was soon forgotten. The figure began to focus on a light in the distance. It started to walk towards the light. As they did, the figure passed several piles of bones as well as small figures crouched within the area. The figure paid them no mind as they wanted to reach that light. The light came from a small cottage just across a bridge. The figure didn't bother to knock as they forced the door open. It first looked at fire at the end of the room before turning its eyes to the three women around the flame. One sat right next to the fire while the other two were seated at a table, one facing the door and the other facing a staircase.

"Heh heh heh… what seems to be all the ruckus? Said the one facing the door.

"Ooh, my! Your face. The face of the curse." Said the one facing the stairs.

"It's an undead. An undead has come to play, heh heh… They all end up here, all the ones like you. You spoke to that kind old dear, didn't you? Heh heh… You're finished, you'll go hollow. Yes, you will become one of them." Said the one next to the fire.

At this point the figure just listened caring not for who spoke.

"Hollows prey upon men, feast upon their souls. This is the fate of the cursed. Heh heh heh…" The women began to laugh as if the curse was a point of humor in their eyes before asking the figure.

"What is your name?"

The figure did not immediately respond. It tried desperately to remember its past for anything that would give it an answer. A memory came… the smell of blood and flames, a voice was calling out.

" _ **Retreat! Retreat! RETREAT!"**_

"My name" the figure croaked out "My name is Rohanna."

Author's Note:

Sorry for the lateness of updating. Life and varying degrees of general procrastination are the culprits. So in this chapter I have revealed the name and gender of the DS2 protagonist. This name is a real name that hails from Sanskrit. Of course the meaning of the name is used more as cruel joke than something to aspire to. Aside from that I'll be working on the next chapter forthwith. Chapter 3 will have the DS2 protagonist leave Drangleic and introduce you to another major character. Constructive criticism is most welcome. In the future, Rohanna's powers will be explained and they were not pulled from thin air. Consider them more as appropriations of powers seen in DS1 and DS2.

Special Thanks to my Betas; Red Renegade, Jarl Dova, and Polkovnik Strelok


	3. Chapter 3

Monarch in the Dark chapter 3: The Sea and the Earth

Walking through the old crypts did not bother her, nor did the trek through the water-logged shrine. What bothered the undead queen was when she arrived at the landing point of the pardoners. Their trail was easy enough to follow. The hollows that had wandered the pathways were so far gone that there was no chance of them coming. Their remains where all that Rohanna needed to find her way.

Majula was another story. The place held memories for her. Some joyous but many tragic. As she surveyed what was left of the ancient settlement she began to take stock of what was left. The old manor house was mostly intact. The roof was gone though, must have caved in some time ago. The memorial pillar was gone as well as most of the land surrounding it. The two smaller houses that Maughlin and Shaliquor operated out were demolished. So too was Leningrast's forge. There were still somethings left though. In what remained of Maughlin's shop there was a full-bodied mirror. Rohanna remembered the day Maughlin displayed it. He was so proud of himself at that time. He had claimed that with it he could properly fit armor onto his customers. He was more lucid back then, there were more people buying from him.

She approached the mirror, she wanted to whether or not she had changed since she lasted around Majula. She appraised her reflection. She had not changed, no that was not right, she had changed. She was taller, much taller than she once was and her eyes. They were once dark brown, now they were a deep red.

After a pregnant pause, Rohanna decided it would be best to leave what remained of Maughlin's shop. She had a ship to catch after all.

After walking around the perimeter of Majula, Rohanna found a ledge that led down the cliffs. The cliffs had been eroded into a steep pathway that led down to a natural outcropping. As she approached, Rohanna saw there were no more than five men patrolling the ship. Deciding it would be better to divide and conquer, she aimed her free hand and launched masses of ash and shadow towards the churning waves below. If one had looked, they would have seen dark shapes moving steadily towards the boat.

"When do you think our compatriots will return?" a pardoner asked his companion.

"I do not know; this kingdom is vast and we do not have an appropriate knowledge of the land. It could be several hours to a few days. Is the captain cooperative Pardoner Elias?"

"Barely, the fool keeps complaining about this place. He says that there are rumors about this island that would turn even the hardiest sailors away. He's not wrong but the creatures are of no threat us and the crew is reasonably safe if they do as they are told."

"Good then. We will wait here for three more days then we will depart to find our brethren. Tell our men to take a majority of the supplies when we do so and if the crew objects, our voices are not the only things that we have to convince them of their place."

"Understood." Responded Pardoner Elias. As he said this, the pardoner headed to toward the cabins of the ship to spread the word of the new orders, unaware that the previous conversation had several unknown guests.

His superior stood on the upper deck for several moments thinking over the events that led them to this island. This mission had to be completed, the crew be damned. The pardoner knew that members of his entourage had some sailing experience. They could eliminate several of the sailors if they needed to make the point known. That was not a bad idea, the pardoner thought to himself, in fact he should relay to his men.

As the pardoner was about to do so he felt a presence behind him. In one smooth motion, he drew his blade slashed the figure across the chest. It was a hollow wearing what looked like rotted sea faring equipment. The most notable piece of its apparel was a metal helmet with down turning horns protruding from the sides. Before he could further examine it, more hollows wearing similar equipment began to pull themselves over the sides of the ship and threw themselves at the crew and his men. The battle did not last long.

Many members of the crew were incapacitated quickly as they were unprepared for an attack by the able bodied hollows. The pardoners fared better though. They stormed out of their cabins and clashed blades with the undead boarders. The fight was going in their favor for some time until the lead pardoner saw something out of the corner of his eye. A large malformed hand reached above the ship and struck one of his men from behind. The wound cut deeply into his back causing the man to be disoriented and become an easier target. The hand came again, this time grabbing the wounded pardoner and pulling him over the edge of the ship. More of these hands appeared on the sides pulling hulking beasts attached them. The pardoner noted that these beasts seemed to be smoking in the sunlight. Before he could use this knowledge to launch a counter attack, he realized how dangerous they were. Each attack they made was aimed at vital points on the pardoners' bodies and the effects of a successful strike were gruesome. Deep gashes looked as though the men would die to blood loss before anything else. The battle lasted for several minutes more and many of the creatures were killed in the melee but so were the rest of the Pardoner's men.

"Were they attracted by the battle or was it something else?"

The pardoner looked over what remained of the ship's occupants. All of his men were dead yet the crew were just wounded.

"Why are the crew alive?" the Pardoner thought aloud.

"That is because they are more important to me than you and your men." A female voice called out.

The Pardoner turned and saw the speaker. It was a woman that seemed to tower over most men garbed in black. It was her eyes that truly caught his attention though, there was something wrong with her eyes…

Angered at the realization of what stood before him the pardoner bit out, "So you have finally crawled out of your hole sinner?"

"No, not really. I more walked from my home to a ship full of invaders. What is your name pardoner?"

"My name does not matter, the only thing that matters now is your destruction. Have at you sinner!"

The pardoner struck first with a powerful thrust of his sword to which his opponent dodged around. She attempted to grab him by the back of his collar but the pardoner turned and stepped out of her reach. Rohanna responded with a lunge of her own, however, instead of a powerful thrust she feinted and before her opponent could react, she stepped to the right and swung her sword in a horizontal arc. The blade struck the pardoner across his face gouging deeply into the left side of his helmet. He saw red. The fact that a sinner such as her had managed to land a true hit on him was inconceivable. This trespass could not stand, the pardoner thought to himself. He began to attack her more furiously than before. They fell into a dance of blades each side exchanging vicious blows.

The pardoner had enough, he channeled magic into his talisman to strengthen its material and waited for the next strike. When it came, he used the talisman to force her blade away. For a moment Rohanna was distracted, then pain filled her awareness. The pardoner had run her through her chest with his blade. The victory was short-lived as she used her free arm to pull the pardoner closer to her. He found himself pressed against her chest. Before he could react, his opponent had pierced him under his ribcage, twisting the blade before pulling it free.

The corpse slumped to the floor and its soul became one with its killer.

Rohanna turned and surveyed the state of the ship's crew and herself. They were wounded which was good, they could still be used to accomplish her goals. Ash was beginning to flow from her wounds and Rohanna decided that it would be best to speed up her healing and to sow the seeds of good faith between her and these men.

She went to each of the wounded men and knelled next to them. A golden light shone between them and within moments the men were up on their feet. She did this with all of the ship's crew. They were… more than willing to hear her out afterwards. The captain was harder to win over though.

Captain Malor was a man who had been sailing since he was a child and because of those experiences he had seen wondrous and at times terrifying things. The woman that stood before his crew was one such thing. After she had talked his crew down, he more or less took her too his cabin to have private conversation under the guise of declaring loyalty to her. The older members of his crew knew what this was however. It was a signal saying, "I'm going to give her an earful and if anything happens, jump ship." The crew nodded and returned to their activities preparing for the worst.

"You're the one they were after weren't you."

"I would have started this conversation with a thank you but yes I was their target." Rohanna responded glibly

"Why did they want you then, you don't seem like that evil of a person?"

"Have you ever heard of the curse of the undead and their supposed duty?"

"No." Malor said flatly.

"Well you see… wait what?"

"I don't quite know what you're talking about but if you ask me you've got as much ash inside your head as you do coming out of your wounds." This was good Captain Malor thought to himself. He caught her off guard. If he could keep her on her toes he could show that she didn't control this ship and he'd better grasp on her character.

"Ah, sarcasm…cute. Even as well-traveled as you are, the fact you do not know of what I speak of is one of the most joyous parcels of news that I have received in a long time."

"How did you figure that?" Captain Malor asked.

"Honestly, I guessed. I figured you would either say yes or the conversation would become that much more interesting as I could explain to you the land that you sailed to."

"So you were going to play me then? I can begin to see why they wanted you dead."

"I just wanted impress my guests. It has been ages since I've seen anyone alive on this island."

"Bullshit…You do realize that they sent a party out sometime ago, they may return soon."

"Do not worry about them, they have been taken care of."

"Is that what you wanted me to thank you for?" Captain Malor asked incensed.

"No, those pardoners were going to kill several of your men and withhold your supplies to make a point."

"How did you figure… those corpses and creatures that boarded my ship, you sent them didn't you!?"

"Guilty."

"That means my men were harmed on your orders!" Captain Malor yelled out.

"Yes well I did heal them, besides if they were able to they would have interfered in my little battle and I'd rather not have anyone not garbed in those robes die."

"My men are all trained professionals we did not need your help." For a moment Captain closed his eyes, this woman was something else. He saw how the pardoner struck her, she didn't even falter in her movements. Did he even have a chance of fighting her? He decided for the sake of his crew he would not tempt fate. Instead he asked, "What do you want?"

"I want off this coast, and find where these pardoners hail from."

"And?"

"Kill them all."

Several hours later the ship had left the cliffs and was making its way into open sea its crew prepared for a return journey with an extra passenger.

"Nivaro!" Captain Malor called out.

The man known as Nivaro was Captain Malor's first mate. A thin man with pencil mustache and greying slick backed hair. Within moments he had appeared in Captain Malor's cabin.

"Yes, Captain?"

"How's our guest settling in."

"Well she seems to be settling in fine if a little unsteady on her feet. The crew either thinks she's some renegade holy woman or a siren come to drag them to the depths while they sleep."

"You thought that last part didn't you, Nivaro?"

"Yes well, I've only just met her and quite frankly she gives me the chills."

"Good, if she does anything that harms the crew you know what do."

"Throw her overboard?"

"No."

"No?"

"Nivaro, you are to throw overboard, turn the ship to whatever side she was thrown from and open fire with the cannons. Is that understood?"

"Absolutely sir." Nivaro said with a smile.

"It will take us several weeks to get the nearest port. When we arrive, give her basic provisions and send her on her way."

"Where is she going?"

"She isn't sure but was pretty interested in Yharnam when I brought it up."

"What would she want with that place?"

"She thinks it has a connection with our esteemed pardoners. Whatever the case she'll be out of our hair within a few weeks' time. She'll be the problem of the caravans afterward. Listen though, I've heard that the kingdom Tromel is in need of some good privateers. Interested?"

"Most assuredly sir."

 _ **Somewhere, on a road far away….**_

"Doctor! Doctor!" a voice called. "Please wake up! My boy, he's been in an accident."

The man in question arose from the back of a small wagon that contained what looked to be medical equipment. He wasn't a noteworthy looking man. He was tall, pale skinned, had dark red unkempt hair that reached his shoulders, and ragged looking stubble.

"Doctor Verdelet, my boy he was out hunting and…"

"I'll take a look at him don't worry." Verdelet said tiredly cutting the man off before descending into a short coughing fit.

The two men walked to the outskirts of a small camp that the group they were apart of had recently set up. They came to a young man laid across a makeshift table. His name was Buccero; drenched in sweat and showing signs of labored breathing, Verdelet could see a large patch of blood spreading under his right pant leg. More importantly he could smell a particularly familiar stench.

"What happened to him?" Verdelet asked the young man's father.

"He was out hunting today, like he always does when a boar attacked him and Marcello."

"Marcello? Where is he then, why isn't he here telling me what happened?"

"He was attacked first, Buccero told us so before he passed out. He also brought this back." The father, Anton, produced an item from his coat.

Verdelet saw what was in the man's hand, it was a simple dagger. It was Marcello's. He claimed it was a family heirloom from an ancestor who was supposedly a general during Tromel's great expansion era. No matter how dulled it became or worn, he was insistent on repairing the damned thing. He would be dead before he parted it.

"Let's see Buccero's wound." Verdelet said weakly.

He took a simple pair of scissors and began to cut along the length of Buccero's pant leg. Thankfully the bleeding was not immediately life threatening but it had to be stopped soon and there was too much blood on the wound to get a proper look at it.

"Anton, go get Clarisse and Samuel, tell them to get hot water, a torch, and my supplies from the wagon."

"Of course, doctor." Anton said shakily.

Several minutes later and with his tools prepared, Verdelet went to work. His first priority was to wash the boy's wound. That was the easy part. He applied pressure gently to the wound as well as ensuring that Buccero was comfortable. That's also when his efforts became much harder as once the wound was cleared its true nature was revealed. Located just under the knee, the wound looked like the thigh had been torn open with a brutish tool. The worst part about it was that it appeared to be rotting.

"Anton!" Verdelet shouted. "How long ago was your son attacked!?"

"Several hours ago, why?"

"Dammit all. Clarisse, prepare to apply a tourniquet to Buccero's leg. Sam, wake the kid up he needs to know what's going to happen to him.

"What going on!?" Anton shouted.

"Gangrene set in, I've got to amputate his leg just above the knee."

"W…..why?"

"It's spread too fast and the knee is the best place to start. If I cut away too much he might die of blood loss or other infections. Cut away too low and the gangrene is still there.

"Papa, what's going on?"

"Doctor Verdelet, he's got to…"

"Buccero listen to me." Verdelet said quietly. "Gangrene has set into your wound and is spreading. If I do not amputate your leg now, you'll die within several days."

"No nonono NO!. Papa please don't let him do this. Its close, only a few weeks til we reach Yharnam. I'll be strong and they'll help me! Please don't let him do this to me!"

"Sam, Anton! Hold him down! Clarisse give him some alcohol to dull the pain. Force it down his throat if you have to!"

Against the backdrop of sobs and half-hearted reassurances, the good doctor prepared his tools and began to cut.

 **Several hours later…**

"Will he make it?" Anton asked.

"Yeah, but just. The infection was spreading quickly…too quickly."

"What do you mean?"

"It's something that I've been seeing recently but only really on battlefields and on caravans. Really any place that does not have capacity to quickly treat wounds" Verdelet began to rub his face in frustration. "Sicknesses and decay are progressing too quickly to be considered normal. The strangest thing about it is that when the sickness finishes its job, whatever held it seemed…well I wouldn't know how to describe it in any other way but shriveled, hollowed out. I remember seeing it happen before me in a medical at a port called Nebraines. I was serving there as a medical officer, and the commander had left to lead the men. I was left to treat the wounded and dying with a mall squad acting as guards. Many of them needed to have bullets removed from their wounds and giving what medicines, I had available to help them along. By the next morning, several of those men were suffering from blood poisoning. I tried my best, saved some, and lost others. It was like that for several weeks."

He paused before continuing, "Buccero should be alright, he'll never hunt again though. The best bet would be to post him up as a watchman atop one of the caravans. Give him a rifle and some ammunition when he gets his strength back. Don't let him push himself, he lost a lot of blood and it will be sometime before he gets it back."

"Do you think that the people Yharnam will heal him?"

"I can't say for certain, do you think they regrow a leg? That's even if they'll let us in the city in the first place. If the rumors are true, then we may have to either sneak into the city or force our way in. Neither option is especially appeasing to me."

"I…I understand; thank you doctor for saving my son's life."

"Christoph."

"I'm sorry?"

"Please call me Christoph."

"Yes Doctor Verde.. I mean Christoph."

CHAPTER 3 END

Side Story Rohanna #2: The First of the Pursuers

"Do you want anything more dearie? I've got some things to sell, cheap just for you." A haggard looking figure spoke.

Rohanna stared at her companion briefly before responding. "No Melentia, that's quite alright I don't actually have anything else to pay you with."

"But you will soon right?" Melentia said expectantly.

"With what you've told me and what the herald at Majula implied, I'll be heading toward the flame tower next." She paused before continuing. "I'll probably find somethings you'd be interested in while there.

"Excellent!" the merchant wheezed "I think I'll set up shop in Majula then.

"Why?"

"Dearie, you may not realize it yet but people like you tend to draw in other people. That means more customers, more souls. Will you be heading out now?"

"No, no not yet, I want to see what else I could find in this fort first unless of course you need an escort?"

"Nonsense dearie, the hollows on the road don't bother with someone like me, you have to take of care of yourself more."

"Yeah I guess… I'll see soon in Majula"

As the near hollow merchant made her way out of the Cardinal Tower, Rohanna took stock of herself.

She vaguely remembered the significance of her armor with its red and green patterns and falcon emblem. She knew she was apart those mercenaries but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't remember what rank she was when she fought with them. She did not even remember wearing her armor or having her sword under her travelling cloak before she met with the old firekeepers. The only thing she could remember definitely was the thundering of hooves…..

"No, I've got to think of something else." She gasped suddenly. "This key…I need to find what this key unlocks, maybe It'll help me in the journey to come."

The next few hours were a blur to her. She remembered summoning a warrior and cleric from the strange scrawls that the soap stones left behind. They fought through a series of barracks against the hollowed foot soldiers and knights and iron golems before using the key she took from the lowest bowels of the fort to enter the highest point that remained intact. There they encountered something that would haunt Rohanna for the rest of her days. A mystical knight was patrolling the upper ramparts and swiftly approached the party with the intent to kill. The tried their best to maneuver themselves along rampart but there was not enough room to successfully do so. Their weapons could only scratch the surface of the knight's armor and the faces that seemed to push themselves out from within made what could have been damaging wounds failures. It was then that the cleric she summoned called to her and pointed to a series of ballistae that were placed and the end of the rampart. She motioned for the warrior to act as bait and draw the pursuing knight's ire.

He did so by throwing a firebomb at the mystical knight. The flames did little to its armor but they did burn the wood of the barrel that held its weapons on its back. The wood quickly burned away and a resounding clatter assailed their ears as the weapons fell to the ground. The knight passed briefly, staring at the fallen weapons as a child would before a broken toy before slowly turning towards the warrior and making a noise that could have been best described as two thick sheets of metal being slowly ground against each other. Within a heartbeat the knight pursued the warrior and began to relentlessly attack him. That was the opening Rohanna and the cleric needed. Without a word, the two ran to the ballistae and began to load as many bolts as they could. When they finished, they prepared to fire and came upon a horrific sight. The warrior who had at that point been holding up well against the knight was pinned against one of the fallen walls atop the rampart, his weapon broken and his shield split in two. For a brief moment, no one moved and then the knight took a step a back and lunged, his sword now glowing eerie blue. It pierced the warrior before he could even register what was about to happen. The knight then lifted the impaled warrior up high and began to radiate dark mist. The mist traveled from the knight through the sword and into the warrior where it performed its ghastly deed. The warrior began to quickly decay and died still impaled on the now blue blade.

Before the knight could even turn to face his other two targets, Rohanna pulled the lever on her ballista and sent five bolts screaming into the knight's chest. The cleric followed suit and fired another five bolts at the dark knight. The bolts tore through its armor, rending large holes through it. The knight staggered, and attempted to float towards them before collapsing to the ground and breaking into pieces.

The two remained silent for a brief period staring at the ruined armor before the cleric spoke. "I've heard rumors of a floating knight you know. Many undead referred to it as one of the Pursuers. I pray neither or us encounter them again." With that said the cleric began to fade away, their duty done.

"I hope so." Rohanna spoke to herself. "I hope so."

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

 **This chapter took far too long to get out. Normally my notes will appear at the end of my chapters so that readers can get right to story before anything else. Sometime ago, I got a review that asked when does the Bloodborne part of the story take place. Without spoiling too much, Bloodborne takes place a long time after Dark Souls 2. If I say anything about the other games in the soulsborne series I'll indirectly spoil some of my later and more important plot points. There is one more chapter before we get to the events of Bloodborne.**

 **Thank you all very much and hope to see you soon. Atma out.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: The entrance of madness**

 **I do not own any works within or attributed to the Souls Series or Bloodborne. They are the properties of Hidetaka Miyazaki and FROM Software. Thank you very much and enjoy**

The gates of Yharnam three months later

Christoph could not believe how easy it was to get into the city. He expected guards to stop them at the Western gates telling them to turn away or present papers of sorts. He expected the guards to bleed them dry of what little money they had left in the form of bribes. He even expected a pitched battle. None of it happened. His caravan arrived at the eastern gates and after some light discussion was allowed entry into Yharnam. That unsettled Christoph. Maybe it was the joy that everyone else felt but he could have sworn that the guards at the gate looked at them with a hungry gleam in their eyes. Did they want money? Items? What? It was too much for him to think on now, there were more important things to focus on such as finding one of these so-called miracle clinics. His cough had gotten worse, he could barely carry out a conversation let alone treat patients before descending into a bout and blood was a now common sight in his hands.

He decided it would be best to follow some of the more physically disabled members of the group to see how the treatment worked and to prevent himself from getting lost. The streets of Yharnam were like a labyrinth. From what Christoph could tell, the city appeared to have been steadily built up upon itself throughout multiple generations. If he got lost, he would need to rely on the good will of the city's residents and while the guards were, if a tad too much accommodating to foreigners, the citizens within the walls were not. Many times, Christoph could just barely hear derogatory comments being spoken his way. He did not pay them much mind though, he came to this city for two things and the first was just a short walk away. However, two things did bother Christoph. There were the coffins scattered throughout the city and the chains and bars that seemed to be on every window and entrance of the houses. The coffins were everywhere, propped up against houses and lampposts or just stacked on top of each other, and why were they secured? Some had chains wrapped tightly around their frames while others had been clearly bolted shut from the outside. He forced his mind off of such thoughts and directed his focus towards the buildings before him. They were tall houses, not very wide, but just enough space for a singular person to navigate easily. They looked to be made heavy woods and stone. Easily defendable, Christoph thought.

His party was led by an overly friendly guide named Lloyd to a place he referred to as Losefka's clinic. The clinic was constructed similarly to surrounding houses. The only difference was a gate in towards to the back of the front courtyard. It seemed to be closed from and separated a small cemetery from the rest of the property. An elderly man in a wheel chair greeted them as they entered and explained that he would be administering their blood healing while the owner was out getting supplies for the evening. The members of Christoph's party began to bicker between themselves on how much to pay him and whether or not their currencies would be accepted within Yharnam. The old man assured them otherwise and gave them what he claimed was a low price for blood ministration. Christoph could not tell whether he was being honest or swindling them but he would pay anyway, his life depended on this blood. The elderly man must have been a doctor Christoph surmised as he began to ask who would be the first to receive treatment. The sicklier members practically shouted their desire to receive the healing blood.

Christoph was fine this as he wanted to be last. He wanted to see how the ministration was performed and even was asked to assist in getting the patients that had issues moving onto their gurneys. Afterwards he just watched. The old doctor wheeled up to the individuals with a kit. From it he took out four items; a strip of bandages, a needle, tube, and a large vial of blood. The doctor began to tell them that when the healing blood mixed with theirs, they would enter into a deep sleep before waking. When asked why, the doctor claimed it was their bodies responding to healing properties and resting from the exertion of purging their sickly blood. The doctor connected the tube and needle to the blood vial, and quickly inserted the needle into their arms before securing it with the strips of bandages. This went on for several minutes and in a short time the patients were all asleep. Only Christoph and the doctor were awake in the clinic.

"I'll be guessing you'll be wanting some blood too? That is why your still here, isn't it?" The old doctor asked.

"Yes, but as a doctor I felt I had to wait before everyone else was treated before me." Christoph responded.

"A noble trait that, however if you want treatment a contract must be made."

"Why!?"

"You came here treatment, now that much is obvious, but there was something else you came for. I need to make sure that at the night's end, you make the right choice. So, will you do it?"

"I… yes, I'll make a contract."

"Excellent!" the old doctor said happily. "I knew you would, please..." With this the old doctor pointed up the stairs as if to say go.

"Don't worry about me young man, I've made my way up and down those stairs many times before, this won't be any different."

Christoph climbed the staircase before setting his eyes on the series of gurneys in the room. He laid himself down across the one closest to the door, waited for his companion, and rolled up his right sleeve in preparation. Christoph heard the tired grunts of the old doctor, kit across his shoulder as he ascended the stairs in his wheel chair. When the old doctor reached the landed, Christoph realized how he had ascended. The chair folded in on itself and the old doctor carried himself and his tools with him. He righted himself before approaching Christoph.

"You mentioned before you were a doctor. Where?"

"My town originally, then in the military." Christoph responded.

"Who were you with?"

"The 42nd battalion of The National Army of Nacer."

"I take it you saw things you'd rather forget?"

"Yes, too many bodies, too many stupid reasons for throwing your life away." Christoph said quietly.

"Well" the old doctor began as Christoph felt the needle pierce his arm. "If you have had any nightmares of those days, I can assure you they won't plague you while you rest."

With his peace spoken the old doctor began to retreat back to the staircase.

"Hey!" Christoph called his voice slurred as the blood began to do its work. "What about that contract, I need to sign it right?"

As Christoph's eyes began close he could hear the old doctor say one last thing, the last thing he would ever hear from the man. "A man of your character has no need of a signature. Your word is more than enough."

The old doctor had gotten himself down the stairs and began think on his patients. Most were fodder in the making, but that man upstairs had potential. Great potential. His thoughts were cut short as he heard the sound teeth gnashing. He looked and saw a beast, clearly wounded in an earlier fight gnawing on the remains of one of the patients that were closest to the entrance. As the beast began turn his way, a mist began to seep off of him. His last thought before it attacked were.

"The hunter has been prepared and the usurper shall die."

Christoph awoke to silence. He should not have been surprised, everyone was asleep when he received the transfusion. He didn't see the doctor around and decided it would be best to check on everyone else. He was stiff getting off of the gurney but he felt good, really good. It was like he had all the tension forced out his muscles and had eaten an excellent five course dinner immediately after. He was so giddy with this feeling as walked down the stairs that he neglected the noises coming from the main treatment room.

The smell hit him first. The stench of fresh blood had caught him off guard, then he heard and saw. There was a werewolf!? Impossible he thought to himself, creatures like this only existed in tales spun by the old to scare children. This thing could not have existed!

The creature seemed to have heard his thoughts, turned towards him and lunged. Christoph dodged and tried desperately to search for a weapon to defend himself with among the gurneys and shelves but none were to be found. Before he could search further the beast lunged again, this time destroying several gurneys in its rabid attack. As tried to run for the entrance, Christoph felt a great weight fall on top of him. He strained his muscles, tried somehow to roll the beast off of him and make for the exit but the beast began tear away at him. He could feel muscles being shredded and torn under the savage assault but the welcoming embrace of unconsciousness was denied to him. He could see in the growing pool of his blood tiny hands emerging. They dragged up misshapen creatures that could only be described as a blind fool's attempt to recreate the human body. Their groans called to him and he responded. There was nothingness and then he awoke.

Before Christoph there was what could only be described as a serene setting. It was garden with small house in the center. As he walked up the stairs to the house, Christoph noticed that there was a human sized doll, no it was at least a foot or two taller than an average person. As he inspected it, he noticed the doll was extremely detailed. The face, and the clothes were perfect if somewhat outdated. Satisfied from his cursory examination he backed away and walked up the stairs the house. He tried the door and found it was locked. As he turned to descend the stairs, he saw that the small creatures from the clinic had returned and held out gifts for him. They had two firearms, three bladed weapons, and a notepad.

As Christoph looked at what was being offered to him he decided to venture a question. "May I take them all?"

They creatures shook their heads as if to laugh and responded by holding up one of their fingers. "I see" Christoph said. "Then I'll take these."

He reached down and took the pistol that was being offered to him. It was an older model than he was used to, antique even. It was heavy in the hand but the saving grace was that it was a break-action. God help him if he had to fight werewolves and other creatures with ball and powder. He looked the blades being offered. The axe might have been good if he was a man of larger build due to its bulk, but he thought that he would tire easily from swinging such a weapon around. The saw? It looked cumbersome and unwieldly. Maybe to Yharnamites, this would be a familiar weapon but to him this was as alien as anything else. He chose the cane sword and then reached for the notepad. The sword was around the length of cavalry saber. It was light but he could tell that the weapon was unusual. The handle was solid but the blade had was segmented. He looked towards the creatures with a questioning glance and they responded by gesturing he twist the handle of the blade. Christoph did so and found that the blade became loose, the segments being connected by a chain link.

"A whip? Strange but perhaps this could be useful. He said aloud. "Excuse me, but how do I change it back?"

The creatures responded by reversing the gesture they made with the handle and then what looked like a slamming motion. Christoph tried it. When he twisted the handle and the segments retracted but did not take their original shape. Slamming the weapon point first into the ground forced segmented parts together. Satisfied, Christoph went to thank his benefactors only to find that they were gone.

The creatures disappeared only then to reappear at one of the headstones lining the stairs. They began to frantically point at a name inscribed at the top.

Christoph could see that the name was Iosefka's clinic. How odd he thought to himself. He reached out and touched the carved named. Immediately a sense of lightheadedness overtook and he felt his body collapsing. When he next awoke, Christoph found himself back in the room before the staircase.

"Could it all have been a dream?" he asked aloud. Christoph then began to stand and felt added weight on his person. He stood fully and looked at himself. The weapons he was given in the dream (?) were secured to his belt. The pistol in a holster and the cane sword in a scabbard he knew he did not have when he came here.

"That means that…" before he could finish he suddenly he a growl somewhere in the room before him. The beast was still there and it had sensed more prey. However, Christoph had weapons now and he would take revenge for his death and those who were killed in the room before him. Like before the beast lunged and Christoph was forced to dodge to the side. As he did, he lunged forward and pierced the beast in its stomach. The two broke away from and the beasts roared in pain, scampering away from the man who struck it, haphazardly destroying whatever it touched. Wasting no time. Christoph rushed the beast and is it turned to face him, he slashed and tore into its eyes before ducking low and ramming his blade into its lower jaw. The beast thrashed and then stopped. Christoph gently lowered his blade and the beast with his pistol trained at its head. He set the creature down, removed his blade and paused for a moment before slicing at it again. He had to be sure it was really dead.

"I have to get help. I need to warn people, maybe even find some authorities. There may be more in the city."

Half terrified and half mad, Christoph ran out of the clinic intent on showing what had occurred. In the waning light, he could see a man with a torch just walking out of sight behind a carriage.

Christoph called out to him "Please sir you have help! There was a monster in the clinic! Please…"

He never was able to finish as the man lashed out and buried an axe into Christoph's shoulder. Christoph felt the pain and is moments of lucidity he could hear the man shout out. "Damned Beasts!"

Yharnam: Southern Gate

"A month on that bloody ship and two months on the road, and I can't say I'm impressed by what I'm looking at."

Yharnam had been described as a paradise for the wayward and ill. To Rohanna, it looked like a city on its last legs. After a month on the sea, Malor's ship had made port and Rohanna quickly found the nearest caravan that was heading to Yharnam. The one she found was led by an older man named Gerrun and his wife Venille. They were an agreeable sort if a little cautious. To be fair though, Rohanna did make an intimidating figure. Before leaving the ship, she had donned a set of chain and plate (1) that she had acquired from a band of lunatics she had encountered during a search for one of her crowns, it was meant to be imposing. Still they took her on expressly stating that she was there to provide security. Rohanna did not bother to argue with them. A job like that reminded her of better times.

They were not the only ones who showed mistrust. Rohanna was liberal in her use of sorcery and was willing to heal those that needed if the resident doctor was unable to get them in time. They called her a witch amongst other thing but they still agreed to it if they felt their need was dire enough. She was not altruistic about it though. Rohanna wanted their trust so she could get a better understanding of the world around her.

She found early on that the sorceries she was used to seeing had been in heavy decline. There was a greater emphasis on science than ever before. Those who wielded sorceries were seen in two ways. If they were officially part of a well-known organization, then they were accepted by the general population. However, should they be outside that scope, then any sorcerer or sorceress would be feared for their lack "Oversight".

When Rohanna had heard that she laughed at them and stated. "If I had the oversight in which you claim I need then I would never get anything done. Let oversight be to obstructive fools and let sorceries be to those who actually have the foresight enough not to be dullards."

Attitudes were poor and for two months she had to deal with constant bickering and the sounds of illness. That was one thing she liked about her curse, she never became ill for long. She had been poisoned many times but never extensively sick, she usually died before it became too much of a problem. When the caravan finally reached the fabled city, Rohanna did not like what see was seeing. Before them was a guard outpost that presumably checked and allowed passage into the city. The only problem was that there was no one at their posts. The stone structure had what looked like two turrets and a ladder that led to a small tower that overlooked the road. A closed gate separated the caravan from the road that led further into Yharnam's borders. Both outside and inside of the gate were broken down wagons and carts most likely from those who got there before them.

As Rohanna scanned the area for any movement she heard Gerrun call her name from the front of the caravan. When she arrived, she could see something was wrong with the caravan master. There was fear in his eyes. When he noticed Rohanna's presence he told to take two others with her and investigate the outpost.

"Take two of the men, try to find anyone in the outpost. If no one is there I'll take everyone and get them inside. We'll make for Yharnam proper in the morning."

"Why not just keep going?" Rohanna asked "If we open the gate and be quick we can reach the city before night fall."

"No!" Gerrun shouted before pausing and saying. "I'm sorry, nights aren't safe in Yharnam. Just get your men inside and see if anyone is there."

Rohanna looked at him and stepped away. The unease of the situation mounting in her head. Moving further down the caravan line she found two men that she could depend on to keep their heads in a pitched battle, Ashe and Zantoro (2). She told them what was going and had them get their equipment. While they busy, she prepared herself. Donning her armor, she took stock of her weapons; a simply round iron shield and her old blackened broadsword. Ashe walked out of his wagon with a rifle and short sword. Eventually Zantoro found his rifle and hatchet. The three approached the outpost talking as loudly as they could. They wanted the guards to know that they were coming if they were there. No need for anyone to get the wrong idea.

"So, let me get this straight, Gerrun wants us to check to see if anyone is alive in this dump?" Zantoro asked snidely.

"That seems to be the case." Remarked Ashe too focused on the outpost to care about his compatriot's tone.

"Hey what about you Roh? You calling bullshit on this or is it just me?"

"I'm more concerned as to why I can't hear anything."

"What do mean?" Zantoro asked taking his eyes off the approaching outpost.

"No animals, no birds, not even a cricket. This place is either dead or there is something here that scaring everything else off." Ashe chimed in.

"Speaking from experience then? Maybe you could divine us the cause of this silence that troubles you." Zantoro said between laughs

"Will you two stop, we're here" Ashe cut in before any more words could be spoken.

The three stood at the only entrance they could find, a thick wooden door with what looked to be an empty incense burner at the stoop. They called out and banged against the door trying to see if anyone would answer. When there was no response the three entered quietly. In the dim light, they found a desk facing the door, on the floor next to it there was an overturned oil lantern.

Zantora reached and lifted the lantern, shining its light through the small room. He stopped and point at something.

"Found the stairs and….shit."

There was blood on the staircase and by the trail it looked whatever produced it had been dragged upwards.

"Bandits?" Ashe asked.

"No, may have been a wild animal." Rohanna responded.

"Could be both." Zantoro chimed in.

The two just looked at him with blank faces.

"Just saying, bandits could have come in and killed the guards, animals just come in later and make off with the bodies. it's not impossible."

Rohanna sighed before saying "Zantoro you go first, I'll stay behind you with the lantern. Ashe watch the entrance. Wait for a while before following us up the stairs.

Silently Rohanna and Zantoro climbed the stairs. They found an empty hallway leading to a partially open door. There was a light shining through. Opening the door, they found a large circular room that had small windows on all sides.

"You know there was an old manor by where I used to live, had windows just like this. Never knew what they were for though." Zantoro stated.

"You were a soldier, right? You should know that these were used in sieges, anyone in this room could shoot out but enemy forces couldn't shoot in." Rohanna responded.

"My unit fought in open fields most of the time, whatever close combat we did experience was between wooden houses and shops. Besides, shouldn't we be caring about the blood more than the architecture."

The blood trail led further in and when they entered the next room they found their first body. The room seemed to be another siege room this one however had a staircase that led down. The body was male and wearing what looked be a common uniform. He looked like he had been mauled to death, a bloody saber was clutched in his right hand. Following the staircase and blood trail down they passed through a small courtyard. The gate was behind them now and a sign saying "Armory" signified the building to their left.

The trail continued straight and they soon found themselves in the outposts barracks. They heard mumbled speaking ahead of them and approached cautiously. When they opened the door, they entered into a recreational room, the source of the blood in front of them. On the floor was another uniform clad body in an even wore state than before. Rohanna placed the lantern on a shelf and approached the body. Whatever killed the person did it messily. She was so focused on the body that she did not see the shadow in the corner.

"Roh!" Zantoro shouted and fired his rifle.

The shot hit the figure square in the chest and all it did was cause it to stumble into the light. It was another uniform clad man but very different. He was taller than the other two, unnaturally so. His uniform seemed to be tearing at the seams and thick tufts of hair grew at irregular places. His eyes locked with Zantoro's and began a dead sprint towards him all the while screaming the word beast. Before the man could make it halfway across, Rohanna slashed at his side, the force turning him around and throwing him off balance. Using her shield, she rammed into him and stabbed him in the sternum. The bestial man thrashed against her weight briefly before becoming still. Rohanna could feel his soul enter her own.

She heard Ashe enter the room and loudly ask "What the hell is going on here!?"

"I don't know, but I think I know someone who does." Rohanna responded.

 **CHAPTER** **4** **END**

Side story Rohanna #3

Finding no other path in the cardinal tower, Rohanna decided to retrace her steps back to Majula, in order to utilize the souls, she acquired.

The herald still continued to perplex her. This woman made no indication of fatigue or hunger, she just stood there by the fire with that odd expression on her face.

"Cursed one it has been sometime and you have brought with you already two souls of power. What would you wish to do with them?

"What do you mean?

"You could consume them for strength or use them for other purposes"

Rohanna thought about for some time before asking, "If I wanted to, how do I consume them?"

The herald looked at her before responding, "Take them into your hand and crush their vessel, your soul will do the rest."

Rohanna stood there for a few moments before removing the two crystalized soul vessels from her satchel. She gazed at the last giant's soul first. It looked like the faded gold she used at… she could remember where but she knew she had seen faded and well beaten gold in her life. That brought her up short. She wasn't alive anymore and this illusion of life she was living could only last as long as she had something to abate the curse. Without thinking she crushed the soul her hands and felt its power become hers. There was trace of something, she thought. A moment of pure unbridled hatred but it passed to quickly to make a difference. She studied at the second soul, that of the monstrous pursuer. It did not shine the same way as the giant's but she could feel that the power within it. She crushed it just easily but felt nothing this time.

The power of the souls was within her now she knew she needed that power in its fullest. Rohanna reached her hand to the herald and simply asked, "Please give me strength so that I may not fall to the curse."

Side Story Christoph Verdelet #1

He could hear the battle rage outside of the medical tent. The night should have been a time for rest and yet these fools wanted to keep fighting Couldn't they see what they were doing to themselves. another soldier was brought in on a gurney. This was the fifth man tonight to be brought, adding to at least twenty to thirty men other men in need of medical assistance. He had help treating them, as there were two other field doctors aiding him as well soldiers being cycled off of guard duty but it still wasn't enough.

They were by all rights technically winning this war. Tromel's naval expeditionary fleet had been repulsed from the beachhead and their current allies, King Ulrich's Northern Alliance was being pushed back further each day. It didn't help though that the bodies keep piling up.

He rubbed his face with forearm. Fifteen soldiers in stable condition, two in critical, seven dead and another six who won't survive the night. He wondered to himself if he could have saved any more before hearing a weak voice.

It belonged to his newest patient. He was man of intermediate age, who was suffering from several gunshot wounds. One in the shoulder, two in the legs; just above the knee and one in hip. If the round missed the artery he could easily save him, though ironically based on the shoulder wound, the lower body shots most likely removed from the path of a fatal shot. The soldier kept murmuring something himself, wheezing between words. Another injury? Had to be internal, he would need to stabilize his chest before examining him further.

"The whistle…. Where is it? I can't hear it!"

"Hey, hey take it easy now, can you hear me?"

"Ye..yes."

"What happened?

"The Lieutenant, he was supposed to blown the whistle… cough..cough.. if he saw anyone coming our direction. Why didn't he blow it!?"

"I don't know, but I'll ask around after my shift. Maybe something happened to him? What's your name son."

"Corporal… Corporal Leon Aiken, 3rd Battalion. My Lieutenant is Harold Brandt."

"Ok, I'm going to administer some painkillers, alright. You may have internal injuries but I'm going to see if I need to remove any bullets first."

The corporal just nodded and allowed Christoph to administer the necessary drugs. He fell into a deep sleep within a few minutes. Two of the three bullets had passed through the corporal's body. The only present was the one just above the knee. He would walk with a limp for the rest of his life but the good thing was that the hip wound missed artery… barely and the damage to his chest was the result of bruised ribs.

As Christoph began to move onto the next patient, he hoped that the Lieutenant hadn't run off into the night on his men. The last thing any of the men needed was a yellow commanding officer.

 **Whew this chapter took way too long to get out. For now, annotations will begin to appear in the chapters. If they are liked, I'll keep them. If not, I'll figure out another way to draw attention to the little things.**

 **The Chain and Plate set is the Mad Warrior's set from Dark Souls 2. The fact that Rohanna now wears it is indicative of something regarding her past.**

 **Ashe and Zantoro are two references. Ashe is a reference to main character from "Vagrant Story", Ashley Riot and Zantoro is a reference to the character of the same name from Bruno Mattei's "Hell of the Living Dead". That character to me was the most entertaining one of the movie. Funnily enough, while I've heard fantastic things about Vagrant Story, I've never played. Maybe I'll track down a copy this and try it out.**

 **The next chapter will focus on both Rohanna and Verdelet and their battles through central Yharnam up to the first major battle in Bloodborne.**


End file.
